Disclaimer: The plot is my own... As for the rights to Pirates of the Caribbean. o_o I'm writing fanfiction.... what do you think..?
Warning:
If the Tale you seek is true love and found glory
Walk away quickly.
This is not that story.
For what you attend
Is a Tale most grim
Where Vampyres stalk
And Life is a whim.
I shall warn you just once. (So do listen well)
Walk away now.
Bid this Tale a farewell.
For this Tale to violence has a curious relation
Sorrow and Blood is its only foundation.
If torture
Was the lily,
(delicate and bequeathing the rose-tinted ash)
Blood was the smell: fleshy
by A Rogue Decay
Prologue
Northern Hungary, 1596
The young countess fidgeted in her chair, unable to keep still. Every now and then she would bring a handkerchief to her eyes to catch whatever tears she couldn't control. She glared at anything in the room with a pulse. She leaned against her vanity and glowered at her chambermaid's reflection. Plain little twit.
"What do you mean he will not come to me?" the woman hissed, referring to her husband who had returned only yesterday. He had not not seen her yet... something which rankled the countess. She was not one to be jilted.
The new chambermaid averted her eyes and absentmindedly smoothed down her skirt. Shaking in anger, the countess stalked over to her chair. Frown lines carved into her forehead as she let loose a litany of very unladylike words. Another maid entered and together they brushed out the countess's long black hair: a daily ritual for the Lady.
Deep in her own mind the countess had more than her husband to be angry at. She had recently celebrated a birthday. The woman scowled again. What a black day that had been. She had been dressed in the finest silks with half of the Hungarian nobility strutting like the pompous peacocks they were. The music and the pageantry; none of it had mattered. She had been in a ghastly mood. Why? Time: how she loathed it with everything within her dark and morbid mind.
The countess's scowl deepened at the memory, and she fixed a particularly venomous gaze on her new maid. Lost in the savage world of her mind, she didn't notice the maid blanch and shuffle to the far side of the room. The countess stiffened, taking deep breaths as a blistering rage augmented her thoughts. Her fading beauty got her blood boiling so much faster than her husband's eccentricities.
"Ah!_Stop that!" the countess snapped, rescuing a silky strand from her maid's hand.
"Sorry milady," the poor maid murmured, taking special care to not yank her mistress's hair again. But fate was against the young woman and her hand slipped, jerking the countess's head back. Sharply. With a screamthe countess struck the woman across the cheek, raking her long nails through her flesh. A second passed. A ribbon of blood seeped out of the gash, splattering the back of the countess's dainty little hand as the maid jerked back. The maid ran out of the chamber sobbing.
"Helena!" the countess shrieked. A woman came out of the shadows, a cloth already in hand.
"Here milady..." Helena gave the countess the cloth. The countess didn't bother offering up her thanks but snatched the cloth and turned away, rubbing away the girl's blood from her skin. She gasped. The skin the maid's blood had touched was as fair and smooth as it had been in the days of her youth. A verdant glow that left her rapacious.
"Helena!" She was at her side in an instant, ready to follow through with the countess's latest litany of commands. Content, the countess her fingertips over her smooth skin. Helena, with a patience born of years of long-suffering, waited for her to speak.
"Fetch Ficzko and tell him to bring that maid back to me... What was the cursed thing's name?" The countess asked without turning to look the woman, much too occupied with how iridescent her hand looked in the flickering candlelight.
"Licia, milady."
"Yes, yes, I remember now," the countess said dismissively, plaiting her hair. Helena hurried out of the chambers in search of the manservant. Eventually she returned.
"Now. . .you will help me prepare for my bath."
Helena helped the countess step into her robe. Ficzko entered, dragging a panicked Licia behind him. The countess smiled and whispered something into Ficzko's ear. The man didn't move at first. His eyes widened, the color left his face. An eternity later he snapped back to life. He gave the girl a pitying glance before dragging Licia toward the countess's large, ornate bath. A quick movement and a flash of metal across the young woman's neck and she was dead. Her blood drained into the bathtub.
The countess gave a sigh of contentment and ran a fine-boned hand over Ficzko's face in thanks. Dropping her robe, she stepped into the bath, her hands working quickly to spread the liquid over as much skin as possible.
There was a glimmer of light and the countess noticed a fine copper chain looped round the corpse's white wrist. The countess slipped it off and onto her own wrist, admiring the lovely contrast the red metal made against her skin. She leaned back into her wicked bath. Dark sharp thoughts gouged her mind as she plotted and plashed around in the thick liquid, anxious that she simply had nothing to do with her hands.
"Helena!"
Helena bowed her head slightly, almost reverently. She was a squat woman with an unfortunate face, but she was fiercely loyal and knew when to hold her tongue.
"Milady?"
The countess didn't answer immediately. Instead, she cupped her hands and brought the red liquid to her lips and drank. She licked her voluptuous lips slowly, enticingly, her big brown eyes fixated on Ficzko. The poor man looked to be somewhere between blushing at the countess's beautiful form or tearing his wispy hair out by the roots and shrieking.
"Helena... Bring me more candles..." She went back to splashing in the bloody pool. "I want to see myself tonight for once..."
A week later the beautiful young countess paced in her chamber, waiting. A young woman entered the room escorted by Helena and Ficzko. Helena's face, emotionless from years of invective opprobrium, was a sharp contrast to the haunted look in Ficzko's eyes. He stared at the countess through wide somber eyes.
A rather sinister smile played across the countess's face as she took a few small steps toward the young woman. The countess graced the girl with another smile. The countess's dark hair, a rich shiny brown now, had fallen out of place at the nape of her neck and rested on her shoulders.
The countess laid her hands on the young woman's shoulders, her copper bracelet shimmering in the candlelight. Without warning, the countess yanked the woman's hair to the side, exposing her neck. A soft chuckle and the countess leaned forward. She paused for a moment, hesitating. The countess sunk her teeth into the woman's neck and held her still as much as she could. Seconds later the countess stepped back. She nodded to Ficzko.
He picked up the young woman huddled on the floor in a heap of splattered crimson and cloth. She struggled, kicking and screaming. A blow to the head and she stopped moving. After carrying through with this business, the countess had another warm bath to step into. Before bathing, the countess dipped in a goblet and brought it to her lips. Savoring the taste like one would a fine wine, she lowered herself gracefully into the liquid, her copper chain shimmering in the light of the dozens and dozens of candles she had strategically placed around her chamber.
Review my fic and I'll review yours!
~~Lady of the Mirror
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